


Waiting For You Still

by De_Marvel_Bunny



Series: Whumptober 2019 [14]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, I cried while writing this, M/M, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Whumptober 2019, but not really, but then again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 17:50:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/De_Marvel_Bunny/pseuds/De_Marvel_Bunny
Summary: As per request: Steve goes back into the ice. He comes back out to find all the original Avengers dead and Tony waiting for him in the hospital





	Waiting For You Still

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kcusllay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcusllay/gifts), [The_Sad_Fangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Fangirl/gifts), [lovingcookiemonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingcookiemonster/gifts).

> I'm probably just really emotional right now but I cried so hard while writing this.
> 
> Trigger warning: major character death
> 
> It's not beta-read, I'm not English and I wrote the last part while crying so there's bound to be a lot of mistakes so just ignore those :)

"Steve, stay away," Tony's voice came over the comms.

"Tony, we have to end this," Steve replied regretfully. "It's the only way!"

"No!" Tony yelled. "There's _always_ another way. Wait for me to get there, please! Please," he repeated, voice breaking. Steve felt his heart tug painfully. But he had to do this. He couldn't be selfish and wait for Tony to come, there was just no time.

"I love you, Tony," Steve whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. He heard Tony's broken sob, and he closed his eyes, wishing it didn't have to end like this.

"I love you too, Steve," his husband whispered back. Steve, who was piloting the enemy's mother ship, steered it down, straight into the icy waters like he'd done so many years before. He heard his team yelling at him over the communication device in his ear and Tony's roar of anger and frustration. He let a single tear slip from his eyes as he gave in to the peaceful darkness.

* * *

Steve felt himself drift back into consciousness slowly. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to open them yet and face the day. He could just stay here, sleep in and hold his husband close-

He shot up in bed, a bed that was definitely _not_ his, when he noticed the lack of warm genius against his side. Panicked eyes took in the room, not recognizing anything. His breathing picked up as he stepped out of bed, turning circles in the small bedroom he was staying in.

People rushed in, speaking to him in distorted voices.

"Where- where is he?" Steve asked dazedly. "Where's my husband? Where- where's Tony?"

None answered him. He felt a needle prick in his arm and arms gently led him back towards the bed, pushing him down gently. He tried to speak up again, ask for his husband, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, his world became blurry, and he succumbed to the darkness.

The next time he awoke, he was more lucid. He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings once again. It was similar to the first time he'd gone into the ice and woken up seventy years later, only this time, there were no old radios playing an old game, or any decorations to make it look like the forties. Now, there were pictures him and Tony, him and the Avengers, more of him and Tony, some of him, Tony, and Peter, and some of just one of them. There was a desk with paper and pencils, a few of his old drawings on display.

The door opened again, this time showing a man who seemed to be in his fifties walking in hesitantly. Steve squinted at him, something about the man looked familiar.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" He asked hesitantly. The man's eyes filled with tears as he nodded mutely.

"Yes, sir," he whispered. "You do. It's me, Cap. It's Peter."

Steve stumbled back in shock, taking in the man's appearance once again. His eyes were the same, although they lacked the youthful spark they used to have. His hair was graying and a mess, there were bags under his eyes, and he had a stubble growing on his face from not shaving for too long.

"Peter?" Steve repeated softly, his eyes filling with tears. The man nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "How long-" he cut himself off, a feeling of panic rushing through him. "Tony."

Peter looked away.

"Peter, where is Tony?" Steve asked, trying to sound stern but sounding broken instead. When Peter didn't answer, Steve's heart sank. Tears filled his eyes as he feared the worst.

"The original Avengers are all dead," Peter whispered, meeting his eyes hesitantly. "Mr. Stark... he didn't want to go until we found you. He's waiting for you, Mr. Rogers."

Wasting no time, Steve pushed past him, trying not to think about how much the boy had grown. He wiped at his eyes, a determined look on his face.

"I assume you can drive?" He stated more than asked. Peter, who was rushing to keep up with him, nodded, wiping at his own eyes. "Take me to him."

* * *

Steve ran up the stairs, not bothering to use the elevator. This was faster anyway. They got to Tony's floor quickly, and Steve took a deep breath outside the door.

"Mr. Rogers," Peter said, gaining his attention. "It's been forty years, sir. Mr. Stark isn't the way he used to be."

Steve nodded mutely, clapping the man on his shoulder before steeling himself and pushing open the door.

The room looked nothing like a normal hospital room. Of course, there was the same equipment, and the same annoying beeping of a heart monitor, although softer, but it lacked the white walls and sterile smell. The walls were painted a soft color, and combined with the soft lights it looked almost cozy.

In the middle of the room was a bed, surrounded by medical equipment. In the bed lay his husband, looking small and fragile surrounded by the big machines. Steve approached the bed slowly, feeling strangely detached. He sank down in the strangely comfortable chair next to the bed, taking another deep breath before looking at his husband.

Maybe Steve was biased, but Tony still looked so handsome. His hair had lost all its brown, his skin was wrinkled, and he looked weak and pale, but he was still so _Tony_. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing softly with the help of an oxygen cannula. Steve reached out to touch his face softly, cupping his husband's cheek. Tony's eyes fluttered open, looking around a little dazedly before his eyes landed on Steve.

First, there was nothing. No recognition, no emotion, just dull, brown eyes, lacking their usual playful and intelligent spark. Then, all emotion came rushing in at once; surprise, shock, pain, sadness, until they finally settled on relief, tears filling his eyes.

"Steve," he rasped, and judging by the way Peter's head shot up in surprise, Steve figured Tony hadn't spoken in a while. Steve felt his own tears slip down his cheeks as he nodded.

"It's me, Tony. It's me," he whispered past the lump in his throat, not trusting his voice to speak up. Tony's smile was blinding as his eyes roamed over Steve's face, taking in every detail.

"You haven't changed at all," he laughed softly, a tear falling from his eye. "I'm afraid I can't say the same for myself..." he trailed off, a hint of insecurity in his voice.

"Tony," Steve cupped his face with both hands to keep Tony's eyes from leaving his. "I- I'm so sorry I was gone for so long..." his voice broke as he choked on a sob. "I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you-"

"I never gave up," Tony whispered, voice breaking. "I never gave up on you. I never stopped searching. Peter took over for me once I got sick..." He cast a grateful look in Peter's direction. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you woke up. I had some pictures hung in your room. I didn't want you to wake up alone..."

He cut off once his voice gave out, closing his eyes as the tears finally broke free. Steve grabbed his hand, feeling the wedding ring still on his husband's finger. The lump in his throat and the heavy weight in his heart were hard to push away as he tried to act tough, tried to be strong for Tony. But tears were streaming down his face, his body shaking with the effort to hold in his sobs. Tony had been searching for him for the past forty years, never giving up the hope of finding him. The others had died, and he was the only one left, stubbornly waiting for the day his husband would return.

"I'm going to die soon, Steve," Tony whispered. Steve opened his eyes to see Tony looking back at him, strangely calm. "The doctors said I shouldn't even have made it this far. But I couldn't leave without seeing you one more time..."

He coughed weakly, struggling to breathe back in. Peter rushed over, taking the water off the nightstand and propping Tony up slightly so he could drink. Tony nodded gratefully, sinking back in the pillows. His trembling hand was still clutching Steve's weakly as he breathed in shaky breaths, eyes closed.

"Mr. Stark stopped speaking a while back," Peter said softly, looking at his mentor with a sad and defeated look in his eyes. "He barely said anything unless absolutely necessary."

Steve stayed silent, not knowing what to say. Because what do you say in a situation like this?

"He had a heart attack," Peter continued. "Just collapsed one day. I was there. I thought-" Peter drew in a shaky breath, closing his eyes. "I thought he was dead. The doctors said his already weakened heart was failing. He's been in this room for the past five years, Steve. Every day could have been his last. According to the doctors, he wasn't supposed to survive this long at all. But Tony kept insisting he was going to see you again, that he was going to say goodbye."

Peter fell silent, wiping away a tear as he looked at his hero, the man he'd looked up to all his life. A sob tore its way from Steve's throat. Tony had always been so strong, always defying everyone's expectations. He'd held on for so long, waiting for his lover to return. He leaned forward, clenching his eyes shut as he held onto Tony's hand, sobbing into the sheets. He regretted what he'd done, even if he did save the city, possibly even the world on that final mission. Because he'd destroyed his own world, again. He should have been selfish. He should have chosen to wait for Tony, let the genius figure something else out, casualties be damned. He let go of the only valuable thing in his life, forcing him to suffer for forty years while waiting for Steve to return.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry, Tony," he sobbed, his body shaking. "I'm sorry for what I did that day. I'm sorry you had to suffer because of me. I'm just- _I'm sorry_."

"Steve," Tony's soft voice spoke again, and Steve lifted his head to meet Tony's soft smile. "It's okay. I'm okay now. I have everything I need right here," he said, looking at him and Peter. "I'm ready now."

Steve realized what he meant too late. He watched Tony's eyes flutter shut, his hand giving Steve's a final squeeze before falling limp.

"I love you, Steve," he mumbled softly.

"I love you too, Tony. So much," Steve replied, biting his lip to keep in his sobs. Tony smiled softly before his head lolled to the side, his chest, which had been following a steady rythem of up and down until now, stilled. The heart monitor beeped multiple times before giving a flat line, the noise fading away to the background as Steve's heart broke. Tony was dead. He was gone. He'd waited for him for forty years, and now he could rest.

Peter choked on a sob beside him, a shaking hand coming up to cover his mouth, his whole body trembling.

"No," he whispered brokenly. "No, he can't- he's not... He's gone..."

Steve brushed his hand over Tony's face, through his hair like he used to do. For him, he'd done it yesterday. For Tony, that had been forty years ago.

There were so many things Steve still wanted to tell him. He wanted to turn back time, fix his mistake and grow old with the man he loved. He should have been there right beside him, drifting off together. Instead, Tony had to do that alone, too.

"Peter, I'm so sorry," he sobbed brokenly. "I'm so sorry you both had to go through this..."

"Steve," Peter whispered, and when Steve looked back at him, he saw the young, scared boy he'd grown to love. "Hold me." Peter's voice broke. Steve held him tightly, holding Tony's limp hand still in his. He regretted what he'd done so, _so _much. He would give anything, _everyting_ to change it. But he couldn't. And he had to live with that.

Because Tony was gone, and Steve didn't know how to fix it. He didn't remember how to live without him, without his happy energy, his loving touches, his sassy remarks and his soft, genuine smiles.

"We'll see him again, one day," Steve told the sobbing man in his arms. "He'll be waiting for us. He always will."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to scold me in the comments, I deserve it


End file.
